


Finally Breathing

by whatacartouchebag



Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Nothing explicit, they get a little handsy in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24020878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacartouchebag/pseuds/whatacartouchebag
Summary: “It's been hours, and when it's cold and you're tired, you get cranky.”“I don't getcrank-”The brunet raised a brow at him pointedly. Qrow held his breath for a moment before shoulders slackened slightly.“Alright, I get cranky.”***A kiss prompt from tumblr: Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 104





	Finally Breathing

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt list I posted over on my tumblr! Just like it says on the tin, this one is "Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss." Which I took a little liberally. I also wrote and edited the whole thing in one sitting so uh, mistakes may be abound, so please call me out on grammar and spelling where you see fit.
> 
> Coming to my senses, losing my focus  
> Taken by emotion, lost in the moment  
> You make me feel  
> Almost human
> 
> ~ Almost Human, Lauren Daigle

Red eyes stared down at the wayward marker on his scroll, leading him ever further along the footpath. Further through another city block. Further into the gods forsaken city. It was hard enough tracking people during the day, but through the bitterly cold nights of Mantle, it was even worse. _Especially_ when all they had to go on was a rough location, provided by a nigh-on-dying signal, thanks to an utterly useless communications system.

He resisted the urge to sigh again, and instead focused on how they were getting a little closer to their target. A little closer to wrapping this thing up and getting somewhere warmer.

There was a quiet sound of amusement from next to him, and he glanced up as green eyes ducked away, finding a faint smirk on those lips.

“Something funny there, Cloves?” he groused softly.

“I _heard_ your tracking skills were the best.”

Qrow narrowed his eyes faintly, waiting for the hook.

That gaze met his, playful smirk now firm on his lips.

“But, if you want, I know a way we could pick up the pace a little. Since I'm well aware of how much you love standing around outside in the cold.” Clover couldn't help but punctuate his words by lifting fingers to his pin, ready to give it a flick at a moment's notice.

The huntsman  _did_ sigh softly at that, and he turned back to his scroll. “A bit unfair to  _pin_ that blame solely on me,” he replied drily. He tried not to let the man's words defeat him, however fair his logic seemed to be. They'd already been following this wild goose chase for enough hours now, and he knew  _both_ their auras were starting to steadily tick down with the cold that was sneaking beneath clothing and skin.

What stung more than the cold, however, was to know he was unable to find a single target, on a clear night, with absolutely nothing to hide her trail.  _And_ he had a damn  _map_ in his hand.

Qrow's shoulders slumped as the defeated sigh fell heavily from him, scroll dropping to his side. “You know what, fine...” he muttered.

Clover's smile could only hitch, and with a knowing gaze, gave his pin a gentle flick.

At once, Qrow's scroll reacted with a soft hiss of static and a delicate ping, and as he stared down at it, saw that the target had jumped positions to somewhere further east of them. Dark brows pinched in mild disgust as he watched the signal strength of his scroll leaping up once more, and he glared lightly at the operative, refusing to acknowledge exactly  _how_ it had drastically changed.

“Have I told you how much I _hate_ Mantle's communication systems?” he ground out. Clover could only laugh at him, reaching up to point at the blinking indicator on the map.

“Well, regardless, you're in luck. That place is just across the next block, _and_ there's a shortcut that I know will get us there a lot faster.”

The huntsman's brain could only process so much after hours of wandering around in the cold, and he was rapidly descending into the positives of speed far outweighing anything else. Get in, get it done, get home, and get warm? He was  _really_ liking the sound of that plan.

He stuffed his scroll back into his pocket, the address already firmly memorised. “By all means, lead the way,” he gestured lightly before them. He could practically feel the bliss of a hot shower and the absolute indulgence of a steaming mug of tea.

Clover smiled warmly at him as he took his hand, leading him deftly across the road and into the mouth of a tiny alleyway. Green eyes skirted up to the thin seam of light that spilled in from the buildings overhead, and giving them brief pockets of illumination from nearby windows.

Qrow was just glad his fingers were finally surrounded by something warm for once that night.

He wasn't all too concerned that he was being veritably lead by his hand, but the lack of light was starting to make navigating the obstacles on the ground a little awkward. Still, for what it was worth, he trusted in the man's luck not to lead them astray.

At least until he glanced over a shoulder, red eyes blinking at the brick wall they now faced.

He snorted at the man, expression falling flat. “Good job. A dead end.”

Fingers tucked under his chin, and how were they so  _warm_ in this weather.

“No, a _break_ ,” Clover explained gently. “It's been hours, and when it's cold and you're tired, you get cranky.”

“I don't get _crank_ -”

The brunet raised a brow at him pointedly.

Qrow held his breath for a moment before shoulders slackened slightly.

“Alright, I get cranky,” he conceded, eyes closing as fingers slipped across his cheek further, bleeding warmth where they touched. He couldn't help but lean into it, his own hand reaching up to cover it. “I just want this to be _done_ already and I don't see how a detour to a dead end is gonna hel-”

Whatever he wanted to say further on the matter was snuffed from thought, as warm lips suddenly sought his, and he blinked red eyes open in gentle surprise.

The soft sound fell from him as the hand upon skin slipped down the column of his neck, holding tenderly as fingertips teased the start of dark strands. Qrow felt the warmth flooding through him from where he touched, and eyelids fluttered closed once more. He leant gently into the kiss, and with fingers still tangled together, let his other one find the curve of the man's waist, pulling him further against him, stealing his warmth.

It certainly wasn't getting them any closer to finding their target, but Qrow suddenly didn't seem to mind in the slightest. 

He was drastically more concerned with claiming any and all of the man's heat as he felt his shoulders push up against the brick wall, the murmur of sound spilling from Clover. Fingers unthreaded from his own, dipping under the folds of a jacket and fisting lightly into his vest, leaving Qrow's now free hand to slip along the smooth skin of an arm.

He sought his way further up the man's warm skin, letting his fingertips duck to the back of his shoulder, slipping under the confines of a uniform and letting the heat seep into them.

Lips suddenly fell away from his, a hairs breadth apart, and he could practically feel the smirk on the man's as warm breath tickled across flushed skin.

“Better?”

The murmur of a word fell between them, and Qrow could only raise his brows slightly as his mind kicked back into first gear after thoroughly stalling again. Well, he was certainly warmer. And far more awake. He blinked opened red eyes to meet that knowing gaze, and he nodded faintly, fingers and bodies still tangled together lightly.

“Could be better still...” he murmured, a little shakily.

Clover nuzzled him softly as the warm smile broke across his lips.

“But warmer,” the huntsman continued, fighting not to seek those lips once more. “Definitely warmer...”

The fingers along the span of his neck brushed their way back to the curve of his jaw, tucking almost delicately under his chin.

“Not so tired anymore?”

The spill of words across his lips was almost obscene with the heat they traced across his skin. Not all of it drawn out by the warmth of the man's breath and skin upon him.

“Think I'm pretty awake now...”

The operative chuckled softly in the back of his throat, as lips skirted his own once more.

“In that case... break time's over.” He gave the huntsman a cheeky wink, pulling away from him and stepping out of his space entirely. Taking all of his luxurious body heat with him and leaving Qrow to short-circuit at him in wide-eyed, silent, stammering frustration. Turning _away from him_ and _walking_ _back_ to the _street_.

“We'll pick up where we left off once we get home,” came the teasing words; a hand waving almost dismissively, as if he'd promised not to forget the damn milk the next time he did groceries.

Clover didn't even need to look over his shoulder to know it was coming, and within seconds he felt the sharp whap above his ascot, the bright snuffling  _giggles_ spilling from him as Qrow stormed past. The huntsman shoved hands into his pockets, turning sharply to the right and following the footpath as he scowled deeply.

Frustration flooded through him in heady waves as Clover fell into step alongside him, the man still downright grinning from behind the back of his hand. He felt his shoulders bunch as he refused to meet the eyes he knew were lingering on him. Fingers withdrew from a pocket, only to ferret about in his jacket for his scroll, his mind having  _completely_ forgotten the damn address from earlier.

Bastard.

He was still scowling down at the map when he felt the warm bump of a shoulder against his, and red eyes closed briefly.

“Come on, cheer up a little,” Clover placated him gently. “I mean, you're warmer now, right?”

Red eyes turned to  _glare_ at him.

“ _And_ more awake,” he continued, thoroughly unperturbed.

Qrow snorted and turned back to his scroll, thoroughly unimpressed. Bastard indeed.

“Crankier. Don't forget that,” he ground out, shoving it back into his pocket. That gentle brush came to his shoulder once more, and he felt some of the tension trickle from his shoulders. “ _Frustrated,_ thanks.”

Clover made a noise of thought at that, and his eyes returned to the path ahead of them, still looking for all the world utterly pleased with himself.

“Well, I wasn't about to give the street cams a show. And I'm sure you didn't want that either, so,” he glanced back at the huntsman, finding those red eyes now on him. “I think our little dead end detour was worth it, don't you?”

His words were punctuated by an inviting quirk of a brow, and Qrow could only stare back at him for a handful of time. The breath of a sigh left him, taking the flood of irritation with it, and he reached up to run fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at the back of his head.

“Fair enough...” he still grumbled softly. He dropped his hand to his side, letting it swing idly for a moment before he sought those warm fingers once more. Regardless of who or what was watching from the sidelines, tracking their mission progress from behind the scenes, they could still share some small slice of enjoyment from the night.

Red eyes narrowed faintly as he felt those fingers squeeze gently within his.

“You're keeping your promise, though.”

Clover laughed gently at the dry words as they walked, turning green eyes back to the path ahead of them.

“Oh, I intend to...”


End file.
